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Mi foto
Cabeza loca.17 años.Le gusta acostarse tarde y levantarse temprano.Quitar la miga al pan y explotar burbujas de plastiquete.Abrir las ventanas al atardecer y ponerse la música a todo volumen para leer a Pablo Neruda.Se considera una amante del cine mudo.El viento sin destino,pero veloz y con prisas.No entiende el blanco pero tampoco el negro.Risas con hielo pero también peros.Pura indecisión.Torpe a morir.Capaz de todo por un simple juego de niños.Atrapa-gestos o atrapa-almas?.Espontánea.Un manojo de purpurina.Un saco de canicas.Una media sonrisa.Incandescente.

martes, 10 de diciembre de 2013

COLORBLIND


It is not about being broken, it is not about being lonely, not about feeling betrayed, or feeling sad.. or whatever you call when a glass full of water falls into pieces and drops out all along the kitchen.
I'm the water.
I am that thing that flows, but she simply doesn't know where. Where is her way. where people can love her just the way she is, just the way she runs free, run down through a river.
It is about feeling wasted.

Tired of support the ones who constantly take me apart, tired of do so many things with so many hope,... and then not getting a so many deserving end; tired of trusting on human species, that species who uses you and then piss you off; tired of thinking that I'm not enough for anything, or what it is worst, for anyone. Tired of repeat constantly myself I have to wake up every morning with a smile, and pretend I'm happy with all the bad faces which sometimes people give us with no reason; tired of not measure up when it is needed or when people wants me to be tall enough. tired of being a person that really I am not. Or that is what I think. Because I do not recognize what type of person I am.
Well,I could say, I'm a dreamer.
A dreamer with really high perspective about life, her future life, and people. Probably that is the point, dreaming so so so so much and expecting so so so much for humanity and other fantasies.
I am selfish. Yes,because I am not starving in Africa because of hunger, because of thirst or because a fucking asshole with million dollar cheques in his pocket has put me into a truck and has raped me.;and however, I desesperately need hugs, need kisses, need someone says me ''I need you'' ... I am selfish because I have everything and at the same time, sometimes I feel I am lacked of the most important thing: love.
I am weak.
Weak of being tired of being tired, looking for something is not going to come, and stand up with any results for the moment.
For the moment, even when I wrote all that destructive stuff below I feel a fire of hope inside yet. And I don't already know if that is good.


 Wasted.
Can water be wasted?


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Gracias por alegrarme el día con tus palabras :)